Memories
by notmarysue
Summary: Memories can't bring back the dead. Can they?


He remembered the moment he lost her like it was yesterday. Whenever the memory found itself at the forefront of his mind it was always so surreal. He always expected that such a tragedy would be coupled with heavy rain clouds and thunder, the kind of setting that every story had told him was apporiate. Yet there wasn't a single second of bad weather. It was sunny that day, the hottest it had been all summer.

When he woke up that day the weather couldn't be more better suited. It was after all supposed to be such a wonderful occasion. Allison was arriving home at last. He always tried to convince himself that he was used to her being away, that it was to be expected, that it was normal and he could deal with everything just fine while she was gone. Yet every time she was called off his heart sank. It was hard to be without her, especially with a little girl to care for alone, but it didn't matter. Everyday she was gone was a day closer to them being a family once more.

She never wanted them to celebrate her arrival home, she hated the fuss. He couldn't help it though. To know she was with them again safe and well was something that called for celebration. Party planning had become a strange talent of his. He supposed all the preparation for Allison coming back took his mind of the fact she wasn't there in the first place. The moment she went away the plans for when she walked through the door began. Finally the months of work were coming into frutation. All the things required were in place. The paper plates and cups that seemed to be used more often than regular ones, the 'welcome home' banner that had been hung more times than it ever should have been. He didn't concern himself with how common this event had become. No matter how long this went on for it would always be just as important as the first time.

The doorbell rang at around one in the afternoon. He should have known something was wrong there and then. She was far to early. It was normally evening when she finally made it back, between six and seven, and never once had she rang the doorbell. Why would she? After all was her home. It didn't matter, early was good, wonderful even. He nearly pulled the door of its hinges when he answered it. The feeling of greeting his wife after so many months almost outweighed the feeling of having to see her leave, almost.

He heart stopped when he realised who was standing there. Not his wife, but a formally dressed man with an UNSC cap and letter in hand. He tried to deny whatever was happening, still a man of logic can never ignore the facts for long.

"Mr Leonard Church?" the man asked as if he somehow wasn't perfectly aware who he was talking to. Leonard Church couldn't answer, he could barely move, yet he manged a single nod. That's when the man took of his hat, the traditional sign of respect, that's when he was sure his terrible hunch was right.

The clarity of his memory ended there. He had forcefully shut the rest out. There were blurs however. He remembered the man confirming what was already painfully obvious and the way he offered his fake condolences. He remembered putting on a brave face as he politely sent the man away. He remembered walking past his daughter, so young and confused, still wondering when her mummy was coming home. Had he said something to her? He knew he must have said something. No words came to mind when he tried to picture it. There were tears, lots of tears. Were they her's or his? Probably both.

He remembered the fact that he never said goodbye. He always regretted that. He tried to, he really did, but the words never came out. At the time he tried to convince himself that she wouldn't want him to. She always hated goodbyes, they both did. It was almost like some naive and hopeful part of him hoped that her old saying would stay true. That she wasn't gone, she just wasn't her. As if somehow she could still come back to him, as long as he didn't say those words.

It was only recently that he discovered how vital memories were. The day he lost her may have been unbearably clear, but the day he found her again offered a ray of light in the darkness. His hope and lack of goodbyes couldn't bring anyone back from the died, but his memories could. To be more specific the Alpha's memories could. Nobody was really sure how it happened. The Alpha was created from his mind. It shared is memory, grief, and pain. Yet it was increased far more than any mind could take. It was a grief so strong that it lead to insanity, to what could only be described as the worst case of multiple personality disorder ever displayed. So serve that it formed a whole new consciousness. It was really just an accident, the happiest accident of his life. For a spilt second the universe simply felt right again.

It was only for a second. A beautiful second before the realisations began. Memory worked both ways. While the Alpha could recreate her appearance and what he saw of her personality perfectly it couldn't recreate her mind. It couldn't recreate something it had never seen. Leonard could love her with all his heart, but she didn't even know who he was. The Alpha couldn't bring back the woman he met and married in Texas all those years ago. It could only offer him a ghost. It didn't have her memories, therefore it didn't have her.

So began the most complex plan Leonard had never constructed for anyone. A plan to return as many of their shared memories as possible, to rebuild his wife piece at a time. He kept her close by making her part of Project Freelancer. Even the name he gave her was an attempt at a clue. Agent Texas, after the state where they fell in love, the state where they had settled down to raise a family, the state that he had waited so long for her to come home to. He stayed loyal to that naive part of himself. His wife wasn't gone, she just wasn't here, not yet. As long as he kept trying he could bring her back. As long as he didn't say goodbye Allison would come home.


End file.
